


only your lips, dear

by peterspajamas



Series: peterspajamas' Comfortvember 2020 [5]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sleeping Beauty Fusion, Angst, Curses, Fairy Tale Curses, Friends to Lovers, Heartsick Steve, Love Confessions, M/M, Magic, Pining, Romance, Sleeping Tony Stark, Spells & Enchantments, brotp avengers, non-con kissing, sleep spells
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:01:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26956990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peterspajamas/pseuds/peterspajamas
Summary: No one loves Tony Stark. Everyone knows it: Steve, Natasha, Clint, even Pepper. Loki knows it, too.The spell comes at an inopportune time. It's tough for Steve, to swallow what it means for Tony, this ending. Because someone has to love Tony Stark. Right?(it ends up being that it was right in front of their nose the whole time)
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: peterspajamas' Comfortvember 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1996636
Comments: 35
Kudos: 183





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> full disclosure: sleeping beauty fusion = non-con kissing. nothing sexual about it but it's sus. no strangers kiss tony but he obviously cannot consent, as is the nature of this.

'What did you do?' Steve roared, holding the shield in his fist and squeezing tight, ready as always to fling it. Loki's muscle shifted, cat-like, under the leather suit he had to have adopted from Natasha, and he offered a patronizing smile. That, out of everything, made Steve falter. The smile.

He couldn't stop himself from looking back at Tony. The mask was up and his eyes were shut, eyelashes sweeping across his cheeks like some sort of dame. His lips were pale and so was his face. Paler than usual. Something had happened to him during the fight on the penthouse floor of Stark Tower and Steve didn't know what. He flinched when he felt air brush past his shoulder, whipping around to face Loki again. 'What did you do?' he hissed. The green eyes were so close that the round irises didn't seem to have an end. 

'Just a little spell. A _curse_.' He looked playful as he said it. 'See, you know Sleeping Beauty, don't you? Stark is... Sleeping Beauty. True love's kiss will break the spell.' 

Steve's eyes widened. 'Loki!' Thor roared, barreling forward. He disappeared in a flash of smoke. 

* * *

Tony was laying in his big dumb bed, lips pale. Steve had the sinking feeling his face would only get worse, more white, as time went on. True love's kiss. Steve set his head in his hands. 

They were fucked. They- they were fucked. 

'You want vodka? Nat's got some.' Bruce looked just as sick as Tony, sweaty and wan, but significantly more disheveled instead of dead. Dead. That was how Tony looked. Lifeless and empty. Bruce was just drunk, though. Steve stood up and left the room with difficulty, something sinking in his stomach every step away. They still had a week. A whole week. 

It didn't stop him from getting started with burning, awful shots of a drink that felt more like fire than anything edible. He took as many as he could, though, hips pressed against the cold countertop as he swallowed down, throat aching. He'd been crying earlier that day. 'You okay, Cap?' Natasha asked from the doorway, every look a glancing blow against his pride. 

Steve straightened up, pushing the shot glass back. He was going to be rosy faced drunk, soon. If he had to guess. 'You know how I am, Nat,' he said in his professional voice. Teasingly, Tony would have called it his Cap voice. 'We lost a teammate today.' 

She stared past him vacantly. 'He's not dead yet,' she said, sucking a drop of whiskey- Tony's good whiskey, actually- from her fingertip and studying the blunted nail. 'Don't lose hope.'

Steve forced a smile. 'I won't.' He paused, scrubbing a hand through his hair, still flaked with blood. 'I won't.'

She nodded brusquely, beckoning him into the living room where Clint and Bruce were sprawled out. 'I think Pepper,' she began, pausing. 'I think Pepper is going to handle candidates.' That was good. She knew about his past. Any woman who'd been close enough to love Tony would get a call, and then he would, then he would wake up. 

Steve was in his most comfortable pair of sweatpants. Ironically, they were Stark branded. White lettering on the soft navy fabric labelled them as Tony's. He always got the nicest stuff. The nicest Christmas gifts for all of them. Took care of them. Steve swallowed roughly and raised his gaze to Clint. If Bruce had been disheveled, Clint was a complete mess. He hadn't taken a shower, by the looks of it, so he had a streak of mud brown in his hair and scraped up knees to match. Politely, Steve did not mention the fact that his eyes were rimmed red. 'Shitty day, huh?' Bruce laughed in a gravelly, just awful voice. 

'I'm sure Pepper will figure it out,' Steve said valiantly. He bit at his knuckle, turning it around to inspect his nails. They were bitten to pieces. 'She's a very smart woman-'

'We both know that isn't the problem,' Natasha said evenly. Steve shook his head. 

'We just have to- we have to have faith.' His stomach dropped. 

Clint threw a shot back. 'Come on,' he murmured. 'No one loves Tony. You really think someone loves him? You really think that?' Steve swallowed. His eyes were damp. Someone _had_ to love Tony, his big brown eyes that were ever-alive and his dark gazes and his smiling face. Someone just had to. 

Very vaguely, he remembered a late night he'd shared with Tony. On the leather couches they were sitting on right then, they'd laid across from each other, sipping fruity specialty cocktails through glasses- those were Tony's specialty- and talking into the air. He'd told Steve... _listen, I know how it is. I know what I mean to you. What I should mean to you. I'm the liability on the team, I'm the mistake if I ever saw one, and I-_ he'd cut off. Too self deprecating. That was Tony. Steve's mobile smart-phone buzzed away in his pocket. 

One o'clock. He had a meeting scheduled for some magnetic shield summoning drill. With Tony. 'Excuse me,' he said quietly. 'I'm going to go talk to Ton- Pepper. I'm going to talk to Pepper about everything.'

'Bye, Cap,' echoed out around the room, just murmurs. 

'We'll just be here. Getting drunk,' Clint said. As if he wasn't already. 

* * *

Steve saw a glimpse of Pepper's face through the glass door before he looked back at his phone. He shouldn't have been bothering her like this, she was a very busy woman and he wouldn't be useful anyway, but he couldn't _not_. 

Deep breath in. Then out. The floorboards creaked underneath his feet as he moved to open the door. His fingers stopped on the handle, trailing away as he saw Pepper make a hoarse noise and bend down quickly, pecking Tony on the lips. What would the bristles feel like against her lips? Through the glass of the door, he saw her pause. Steve waited for Tony to shake himself awake. Smile lazily up at her. 

He waited for Tony to become alive again. 

Steve didn't quite process that he was still doomed until Pepper made a noise of grief under her breath. 'Are there any leads?' Steve asked, barging through the door. She looked up at him, eyes ghostly. 

'Nothing. No one. Yet.' Pepper cleared her throat, looking forcibly away from Tony. In contrast, Steve's eyes wouldn't leave his face. The lips she had just kissed were very slightly pink, but only against the greyish white color of Tony's cheeks. 'There are only two options I can think of.'

'Who?' Steve asked, pretending curiosity. 

'Rumiko Fujikawa. And Janet, his old best friend.' Her lips quirked up at the sides. 'They're the only exes he still keeps track of, that has to mean something. Right?' Steve nodded, swaying a little. 

God, it had gone to his head. The liquor. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy halloween everybody!! hope everyone is doing well! I was going to wait a week to update but I'm a bitch so I have decided to do it today. I want attention and I can't go to any parties :( so I'm here looking for POSITIVE FEEDBACK 
> 
> you can also find me on my tumblr it's called jean-and-diet-coke, link is in my profile, I take prompts there! I love filling prompts.

Somehow, every dame Tony caught was a glamour model. Not one, but two private jets landed on the tarmac outside of the Avengers Compound. He watched through the windows, hands folded behind his back. The first one was at ten, and a sunglasses-clad woman wearing a fancy dress. He swallowed. 'When did they date?' Steve wondered aloud. 

'His twenties. When else?' Natasha smiled wryly next to him and he reached out to hold her hand. 

He tried not to dismiss her professionalism and guardedness for apathy. Steve knew she had to be worried. She had to be worried they would send Tony off, sometime soon. His heart sputtered like bad engine every time he thought of the reality they were dealing with. 'Of course,' he echoed quietly. 

Steve simply... couldn't imagine a life without his dear Iron Man by his side. He couldn't think of it. Clenching his fists, he turned around, intending to go to the gym, and just as soon sagged into a chair, taking deep breaths. Like how he did with his ma and Bucky, he would make a little set of drawings and pictures, go over their voices in his head every night, rolling through the most familiar quotes so he didn't forget what they were like. His mouth opened slightly, a breathless noise escaping him. He couldn't add _Tony_ to those ranks. He couldn't do that. Imagine him saying, _oh, Winghead, don't kick up such a fuss_. Steve wouldn't go get three flower bouquets every month and drop them off at _three_ graves. 

No. Tony would not be dead. He would not be a memory. One of those ladies would kiss him and he'd wake up, whisk them away to some... passionate lovefest in the Bahamas or Hawaii, wherever it was fashionable to be nowadays. Tony would know. He always did. Steve sucked in a breath, sniffling as he let it out. But there was no one to teasingly comfort him, push at his shoulder and say, _aww, big guy_. He clenched his fists, standing up. 

It would be rude, after all, not to greet his guests. 

* * *

Steve liked both of them equally. Both equally nice dames. They asked for privacy, and he sure as hell understood wanting that when you were kissing the life back into Tony. It was just nerve wracking to face two charming smiles as they glided through into the room. 'You think this one will work out?' he asked Bruce. 

Bruce chewed on the inside of his cheek. 'You know what, Steve, I really don't know.' 

'What are we going to do if no one works?' he pressed on. Bruce sighed. 

'Pray,' he muttered quietly. Steve's stomach sank. 

They both stared at the door and Steve gripped the chair underneath him very tightly. He narrowed his eyes at the door, shifting uncomfortably. 

'What do you think is taking so long? They coulda been in and out by now,' he said. 

'Maybe they want time. Maybe they're taking off their lipstick.'

Steve nodded, anxiously toeing in the ground. Both of them were wearing full faces of makeup. Bruce had a point. He turned back to Bruce's face. 'You think that he'll realize-'

'I don't know if he can feel everything or if he's asleep.' 

Steve blinked. 'Come on, you're a scientist.'

Bruce growled and Steve stepped back, trying to angle himself towards the door in case anything... bad happened. 'I don't know _anything_ ,' he groaned. Head in his hands. 'And he is my best friend. He's going through who knows what in there, I can't do anything about it.' Tony's other best friends were Rhodey, who had begged time off for the military, and Steve, who was standing outside his hospital room right now. If platonic love counted, Pepper would have broken the spell. 

Steve did not like feeling useless. 

'Give me a break. Please,' he whispered. 

Steve gently rubbed his back, kissing the crown of Bruce's head even though it probably made him feel awkward. That was what he remembered him and Bucky doing to each other. Bucky would scrape his knee and in absence of Bucky's ma, Steve could kiss it better in a pinch. 'I'm letting my own anxiety get the better of me,' he confessed. 

'Yeah, you think?' After another long moment, Bruce pushed him off. 'Look at us. You can throw alien armies over here but the second we can't fight something with our fists, we are useless.'

Steve sighed deeply. His next words were interrupted by the crack of a door leaving a dent in the wall. Both of them- both Bruce and Steve- sagged in their chairs, defeated, as the two ladies stormed out. It was anger over the future, pure rage at the fact that they were useless. Steve felt it, too. In his chest, a snarling beast that screamed at him to help. But he couldn't help.

Clint had been right. No one loved Tony, not in that way, and not enough to break the fucking curse. Both Van Dyne and Fujikawa had the softest, most heartbroken looks on their faces. And it wasn't enough. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls comment I will love you forever


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm using this for my days 9 and 10 of comfortvember: crying and confession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: tony is essentially terminal. I know cancer/terminal illnesses can be a trigger so I don't want to catch you unaware, they genuinely think he's going to die. be careful! 
> 
> also mild internalized homophobia. not hard to guess where it is from... all my works are self projections

_'Time is almost up, you know,' Loki told him conversationally. Steve reared back to punch him. But his face washed away, leaving droplets of red clinging to Steve's fingers even though his fist had made no contact at all. His breath stuttered, fogging the air in front of him, and he stumbled to the ground, pressing his fingers into the dirt._

_They were white as snow as they clenched and unclenched, with the same pallor as Tony's lips while he was-_

Steve sat straight up, heart pounding behind his large ribcage as he tried to get his bearings. You could see the whites of his eyes. 'Captain Rogers?' Steve closed his eyes and shook his head numbly. 'I am notifying you that it is the last day to save Mr. Stark.' Like he didn't already know. 

The room was solemn. Quiet. Steve climbed out of bed and got started in the kitchen. 

His damn _hands_ \- they wouldn't stop shaking. They wrapped slowly around his favorite coffee mug and his fingers brushed past Tony's. For a moment, he stood stock still. When would they get rid of his mug? When would be an appropriate time? He dropped his own, the one filled with coffee. Brown spilled over the floor and it shattered with an echoing noise. Steve stepped over it, heading to the medbay in sharp, staccato beats of his feet against the ground. 

He couldn't go a single minute without this. It would probably be just weeks until Tony's body was buried. Gone. _Aww, Winghead, trying to get your hands on me while you can?_ This was serious. He had a few days before Tony would be confined to a- a coffin. 

It was like the scene, all those days ago, where he saw Pepper leaning over Tony. Exactly like it. A different shade of red hair, maybe, but the same steely determination.

“Cap.” Natasha told him, studying Tony’s slack face. 

Steve walked in, inspecting her. Natasha was nothing short of perfect. Worn. But perfect. “We should get the whole team in here. Even if he won’t remember...” Steve trailed off, shaking his head like he was trying to loosen something there. 

“Get him a nice send off. I like the idea.” Steve had no clue how early she’d woken up to beat him.

”Do you want some time alone?” he asked awkwardly, clearing his throat. They had a special relationship, Nat and Tony. Best friends. 

She shook her head, sitting back. Steve reflected back on what they had had, the heaven for one shining moment. The first time he'd met Tony was well documented. A tape had made its way around SHIELD and people had talked about him behind his back for weeks, but then Tony found out and got all mad. He'd kidnapped Steve with Natasha's help and taken him on a vacation. Grudgingly, Steve admired him. He'd _begun_ to admire him. The way he coasted through the waves of the ocean, swimming like a fish. His casual prowess at cooking, always a surprise. The strength it took to build suit after suit after suit.

Even everything that surrounded him. He could switch from wound tight with ideas, bursting with words and creativity, to laid back and driving through the palm tree-lined boulevards, one hand on the wheel and talking over the radio. Steve pressed his forehead into his hands, beside himself. What was their team without Tony? It was a ridiculous premise; he'd been there since the beginning. Who was going to fly everyone out to his private island, or Malibu mansion? Who was going to organize random fun nights for all of them together? When Tony- when Tony was _dead_ , they'd all be lost. 'Fucking fuck,' Natasha swore, gently clutching Tony's limp hand in hers. 

Steve looked up. 'Natasha-?' he began, voice rough. 

'Fucking-' And she leaned down, face lined with purple bags and she kissed him on the lips. Steve stared at Tony, willing him, willing him with all that he could bear to think of, to wake up. He stayed where he was. 

'You tried,' he said to Natasha. Too tired to do anything else, he resigned himself to it. No more surprise vacations. No more teasing smiles. Nothing. 

* * *

Steve was tired. He wanted it to be over. He wanted- he wanted. 

He wanted Tony to come back, didn't he? 

Slowly, people began to file through the room. Rhodey had been with Steve all day and Pepper kept calling him over the phone so she could get a look at his face. Rhodey's cheeks were set in stone; Natasha's were made of marble, too. 

Bruce's pacing was the only constant. You could hear him tapping away, pushing the door open to get a quick look in and fleeing. They sat in mostly silence, only the beeping and the pacing and Steve's quiet updates to Pepper. Rhodey kept whispering encouragement and it was so sad that Steve had to bite down on his knuckles. The room was stuffed through the day. 

And then the evening came. Clint and Natasha left to SHIELD. Fury would be so surprised. Confused. _What do you mean, he's dead?_ It made Steve feel sick to his stomach. But the room emptied out, Rhodey dropping off to sleep. Steve let him. He deserved it. And like that, it was really just Steve and Tony. 

Tony had his red pajamas on, and it was the only spot of color anywhere. His cheeks, normally rosy and crinkled with a smile, were... pale. Sunken. His whole face was tired in a way Steve had never seen before. Before he could stop them, the tears came. He hunched around himself, wet droplets of anger and fear tracking down his cheeks. Lights glimmered in the window. Red dots beeped along with the machines that were there for show. 'Shit, Tony,' Steve whispered into the night, words curling around the ball of tears in his throat. 

And he leaned over, out of his mind, bunching the front of the red pajamas in his hand. His lips touched Tony's. His eyes fluttered shut. Soft, chapped, dry. Cold. Steve's heart was thundering under his skin as he let go of Tony's pajama shirt and turned away again. Away from his failure. 

That was when he heard a soft snuffle. Tony slowly rolled over, wedging the pillow under his head with a familiar kind of grumble that said _no, I don't want to get up_ _._ Steve's wooden hands touched his lip and he looked at Tony again. He was asleep but he was alive. 

'Fuck,' he said reedily. 'Rhodey! Rhodey! He's awake!' Steve cried, grabbing the bicep. Rhodey changed from asleep to awake in an instant, staring at Tony's alive face. Color was returning to his cheeks. 

'Did-' Rhodey looked at _Steve_ instead of Tony, even though Tony was awake, precious life on his face. 'Did _you_ kiss him?'

'Who kissed me, honeybear?' Tony murmured sleepily. Rhodey held his gaze. 'Wait.' His rumpled head popped out from under the pillow. 'Honeybear? Why are you here? Why am I in the medbay?'

Steve had been standing. His knees crumpled, though. He landed on the floor, reaching out to take the hand Tony was offering. 'Shit- shit-' Rhodey stuttered, diving in to hold onto Tony. The awful stillness, the pale white cheeks standing on pale lips were starting to fade, and his eyes were open. Confused, but open. 

'I almost died, didn't I?' he asked, touching his forehead. The sight of the red pajama shirt made Steve so fucking- so goddamned relieved that he choked on his breath. 

'Natasha- call Natasha,' he told Jarvis in a strangled voice. And he scrambled for his own phone, too, soaking in the stars' hopeful light, and texting Pepper that he was awake, Tony was awake, alive and well. 

'Did you kiss him, though? Steve?' Rhodey asked, shuddering when the door burst open. 

Tony raised his eyebrows. 'What was this? Sleeping Beauty? Only true love's kiss will cure the spell?' Steve nodded silently, paling. He had kissed Tony. That was... wrong. No one had wanted that from him. 

'I'm so glad you're alive,' Pepper said faintly, taking everyone's attention away from the tearstained, guilty look on Steve's face. 

Before the door even closed behind her, he was gone. 

* * *

Steve had been everywhere but the Tower in the past three days. He'd fed the birds at Central Park for about three hours, sketched on a bench, sat in a coffeeshop with a large cappuccino, and eaten his weight in dry, tasteless protein bars. In fact, he'd drank so much coffee and had so many tasteless calorie bars that any amount of brushing his teeth wouldn't get the taste out of his mouth. It lingered there. 

He was familiar with his bunk at SHIELD again, cozied up in the corner on the third floor, looking out at absolutely nothing. There was a bed that was too short for him. He didn't like being away from the luxuries of Stark Tower. Unequivocally, though, he deserved it. The guilt was eating him alive. Like how he'd once seen a honeybadger tear apart another animal, his own shame was tearing him apart. He'd pulled about a thousand different muscles on his early mornings in the gym and he really didn't care. Like a feather floating in the wind, he was gone. 

If only he was invisible, though. Nonexistent. Because about halfway through his fourth day, Tony walked into his room. He had been sitting on the floor, cross-hatching a picture of Natasha, and then his focus was broken by a sharp foot landing in front of his face. He looked up into Tony's eyes. 'I hear your true love's kiss broke the spell on me, huh?' 

Steve's pencil broke in his hand. 'It was a fluke,' he growled. 

'Uh, no it wasn't. We're, what? Soulmates?' Steve let out a gust of breath, shaking his head. 

'Leave it, Tony. We aren't anything.' 

It was probably just a trap Loki had created. A funny practical joke. He wanted the leader of the Avengers to kiss his first Lieutenant. _Tony didn't want Steve_. And if Steve wanted Tony... He rose from his spot on the floor. 'Let's try this again. We- you and me- are soulmates. According to magic.' 

'Do we really have to do this?' Steve asked, in a soft and tiny voice, a sharp turn away from his normal smooth confidence. 

Tony cocked his head. 'What? Tell me what we're doing.'

'It was a fluke,' Steve repeated. 'A practical joke.'

Tony raised his eyebrows, leaning against the cheap doorway. 'You've moved into what looks like a college dorm just to get away from me. You _kissed me_. It means something, Steve.' Steve's hands trembled. 

'Tony,' he said in a low voice. 'Don't pull on me, like, like this, don't tease me. Okay?' He lifted his head to look at the ceiling. 'Don't.'

'You know, Steve,' Tony began, scathing-

'You know, _Tony_ ,' he mocked, swallowing. 'You know I'm not going to get anything from you, okay? Yeah- yeah, maybe my love was so _deep_ and _pure_ that I get the true love's kiss but I've learned to live with it.' His voice broke and so did he, losing his posture and curling his arm across his body. 'I'll be back at the Tower, just give me a few days. I'm sorry.'

Tony cleared his throat. 'You realize I was going to die, right? You realize what I thought, when I woke up, you know. You realized that my immediate thought was that no one loved me? No one should have been able to wake me up?'

'Tony, you're the most lovable person I know-'

Tony drew him in, like Steve was a spool of thread, unwinding towards Tony and pausing there. He had a few inches on him. 'Come on,' Tony said, reaching up to Steve's face and tugging at the hair by the nape of his neck. 'Kiss me.'

Steve blinked, and he closed his eyes. And he leaned in. 

And they kissed, more than a peck, more than a brush. An actual kiss. 


End file.
